


Let's Start A Garden

by ForensicSpider98



Series: Love After the Fact [5]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alien Biology, Alien Cultural Differences, All this stress is bad for the baby, Altean Adam (Voltron), Altean Prince Lance (Voltron), Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Aromantic Asexual Pidge | Katie Holt, Asexual Keith (Voltron), Balmeran Hunk (Voltron), Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, F/M, Galra Shiro (Voltron), Galran Prince Keith (Voltron), Gen, Gender-Neutral Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, M/M, Moral Ambiguity, Moral Dilemmas, Multi, Nonbinary Pidge | Katie Holt, Olkari Pidge | Katie Holt, it's keith. keith is the baby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-18
Updated: 2020-02-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:53:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22782838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForensicSpider98/pseuds/ForensicSpider98
Summary: Lance takes a moment alone with Keith to figure out what they want from one another.They're more on the same page than they think... ;)Also introducing the bumblemoth, which is basically a luminescent hermit crab with wings. I love them.
Relationships: Adam/Shiro (Voltron), Alfor/Coran (Voltron), Allura/Lotor/Romelle (Voltron), Haggar/Zarkon (Voltron), Hunk & Pidge | Katie Holt, Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Series: Love After the Fact [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1635043
Comments: 20
Kudos: 289





	Let's Start A Garden

Lance keeps a grip on Keith’s hand as he leads him through the seemingly endless hallways. Keith's grateful, albeit begrudgingly. He'd get lost in seconds without the Altean.

“I want to show you something,” Lance whispers. “I suspect neither of us wanted this, but still. You are far from home, and I’ve given much thought to making you comfortable.”

Keith says nothing.

“I hope the circlet is okay.” Lance tries again. “I told my resident genius to make sure it wouldn’t bother your ears.”

Keith falters a bit, not having considered that Lance might have put any special thought into the piece. It's nice, he assumes, gold with a red stone of some kind in the center of it, it dips down a spot or two in the front and back and settles between his ears. Lance's wraps all the way around, a flawless circle siting lightly on his head, that glowing blue stone perfect in color.

Perfect, like the rest of him. An overbred little whore.

“It doesn’t bother me,” he whispers, truthfully. “One like yours would, but this one is fine.”

Lance seems fairly pleased with that. "Good, because Pidge nearly strangled me when I asked them to change it."

They reach a set of double doors.

“These are our quarters. You’re not at all confined to them, but do remember where you are. And where this room is. You may need it.” Keith nods, tension coiling in his stomach like a heavy rope. He feels sick. It’s good he hadn’t been able to eat the food. "The scanner, here-" Lance gestures gracefully to a scanner next to the doors. "Will only recognize your hand print and mine. And Adam's, but if he didn't have access, he'd have Pidge break him in. And Pidge can get into pretty much anything. I'll show you their space as soon as I can, in case you need anything or need to snoop around."

Lance opens the door, still gripping his hand tight. Keith’s not sure if he feels comforted or trapped. The guards standing watch follow him with their eyes. He notices that the one on the left has milky white orbs instead of opalescent irises. 

“I imagined you would spend a lot of your time here while you grow accustomed to living here. I tried to make it more suited to your tastes.”

Lance guides him into the room. Before Keith can take a look around, Lance draws him closer, undoing the clasps on Keith’s vest, slipping it off for him. Keith sighs, pinching the fabric of his close-fitting shirt. It’s not the sort of thing he’s used to, but he can bend his spine again, which is a definite improvement.

He turns, looking around the room. Behind him, Lance removes his own vest, pulls a bottle of something from a drawer in the wall, applying it to a cloth to clean the paint from his face.

It’s nice. The enormous, round, four-poster canopy bed notwithstanding, the quarters have a great deal of open space, with room for Keith to pace. He notices a ladder leading to a second floor of sorts, a simple ledge around the circular tower that contains the main room. A warm fireplace, already burning in front of a sofa and some chairs. There's no smell, so Keith assumes it smells sweet in here.

There’s a tray of food on an end table. 

“I've been told that Galra like high places, despite living in dens. That space up there is yours to furnish. Just let me know what you want and I’ll procure it. Or I can show you how, and you can do it yourself. There is a pile of cushions up there by the window already, in case you want to get away.

“This switch here will dim the lights,” Lance explains, lifting their re-joined hands to a dial on the wall. “It should be more comfortable for your eyes. I’ve heard that they’re sensitive. Through that door-” Lance gestures with their hands. “-is the bathroom. And through there-” Lance gestures again. “-is a garden. It’s like nothing you’ve ever seen before, or so I expect. I hope you like it.”

Lance begins fiddling with the many pieces of gold in his ears, the caps covering the pointed tips. There’s a sigh of relief as he removes some of the heavier pieces. Of course he has the audacity to complain about _earrings_ when Keith-

Keith slips away, taking small, cautious steps to the garden door. He lifts his hand to the gilded handle, hesitates, turns back for permission.

Lance smiles, gesturing with his hand. “All of this ours, Keith. Do as you like.”

It’s a garden, to be sure, but not at all familiar to Keith. There’s a strange, curling tree with green wood, it’s swirling branches hanging overhead, heavy with long strands of blue leaves. At its base, flowering plants with purple, yellow, and red petals. Small, pale, glowing... _things_... hover among the branches, slipping in and out of the flowers’ deep throats. The moss is soft beneath Keith’s weird, tall shoes.

Keith reaches up, trailing a leafy tendril between his fingers, and the leaves chime a soft, tinkling melody like wind chimes. Keith gasps, snatching his hand back. He smiles, small but still there.

Lance quite suddenly looms behind him, and Keith tenses. The smile is gone, his cuticles tingling as he resists extending him claws. He has a duty.

_Remember where you are._

“It’s a singing tree. Romelle really likes wind chimes. She told me about them. I thought this might be a decent substitute. Our quarters are unorthodox. Normally, and before now, my quarters were near the center of the castle, in a high tower. I relocated out here to the corner with this invention in mind. There are places where the walls open and let in a breeze. I thought you might find it pleasant, but still safe if you wish to hide yourself away in here-” Lance stops talking quite suddenly.

Lance is clearly trying (and failing) not to talk his ear off, perhaps aware that Keith isn’t much of a talker. “It’s... nice. Thank you.”

Lance doesn’t respond.

Keith winces. “Sorry. I do like it. I just…” He couldn’t have sounded any less sincere. He tries to hide his dismay, his fatigue. A hand finds the small of his back and Keith jumps, instincts kicking in before he can push them down. 

“You really think I’m going to touch you, don’t you?” Lance sounds disappointed.

“You are touching me!” Keith protests. “You’re doing it right now!”

“That’s not what I meant. You know that.” Lance regards him, those opalescent blue eyes gazing hard into Keith’s face. The Altean has layers. “You’re not a fool, though you are a poor actor.”

“You have a reputation. I don’t expect you to care.” Keith bristles, the strip of longer fur down his spine ruffling beneath his snug clothes. Lance just sighs, carefully drawing away.

“It’s a farce, Keith. See, I’ve spent much of my time fooling about. Openly. Brazenly. No one expects anything at all from me anymore except more fooling about. Now, I am married, and have new duties to my spouse and new duties to my people and yours, lifting a heavy burden from my aging fathers’ shoulders. Imagine how delighted the people will be when I cease my foolery and rise to the occasion. It will be much easier to gain their favor if I seem to perform some small miracle.”

Keith remembers quite suddenly that the word Prince Lotor, Princess Allura, and Romelle used to describe Lance had been “complicated.”

“So... you’re not actually a pervert?” Keith asks. Lance blanches, then relaxes. Keith averts his gaze. He needs to learn how not to talk to people. Or how _to_ talk to people. The first is probably more feasible.

“No, Keith. And I’m not about to do anything to you that you don’t want.”

_You already have._

_It’s not your fault._

“Eventually, my father will either order me to, or we won’t be able to avoid the need for progeny but... For now, your body is your own, and only your own. Either way, I will never take anything from you by force.”

“You couldn’t if you tried,” Keith growls, ears pinned back against his head. He bares his teeth at the Altean.

Lance raises a silver-white eyebrow, eyes chilling. “Oh?”

“I’m a Galra, Lance. I’ve been trained, practically since birth, to kill Alteans.”

“And you think I haven’t been trained how to kill Galra?” Keith's ear twitches. Lance sighs. “Listen, I want us to-”

“If you say you want us to be a real couple, don’t bother. We’re not.” Keith grimaces again. Adam will likely forbid him to speak in public at this rate.

Lance glares, frustrated. “No. I don’t expect that. However, I would like us to work together. Maybe... friends?” The Altean is losing patience. Keith heaves in a breath. That really doesn’t sound unreasonable. Or too terrible. “We may be the only ones we can trust now. We’re enemies of both our peoples, Keith.”

“Okay. We- We have a common goal in mind, right? Take care of our people?” Keith glances up to the prince. Lance nods in affirmation. “Then yeah, we can work together and maybe be friends. I don’t know how to lead, but I do have practical knowledge. I’m sure I can be good for something.”

Lance breaks into a dazzling grin, the soft scales on his face glowing faintly with quintessence. Lance must be a powerful alchemist, if his quintessence rises that willingly. And not a very experienced one, if his control is so lacking.

“Great! So... What do you like to do?” Lance bends down to gently play with one of the little glowing-ball-creature-things. Keith wilts. How’s he supposed to answer that?

He decides to start with what he’s good at instead.

“Um... I’m a good tracker. An excellent fighter. I’m very good with a blade. I’m fast. I have good instincts.”

“Okay... But what do you _like_?” The Altean doesn’t look up. Keith sighs, wrapping his arms around himself, tail and ears wilting. Growing up, he only had time to like one thing: living to see tomorrow.

“I don’t really know.” He hates how small he sounds at that. “I just... do my thing and that’s about it.”

“Well what would you choose to do if it were up to you?” Lance is clearly starting to get frustrated again, if the tiny huff and the annoyed angle of his ears were anything to go by. The tips are sticking out of his soft-looking white hair. Everything about Lance looks soft, at least at first.

The prince changes so fast, emotions so fleeting and wild. A capricious creature, born of a capricious species.

“...Train. Oh! Sometimes, I read books or explore the wilds. I usually go off by myself when I’m out hunting.”

Keith finds himself hoping that there’s _something_ in there that Lance might like about him. At least let this pretty, dangerous creature like _something_ about him. Even if just something small.

“I like exploring too. And I can show you where the library is tomorrow, if you want.” Lance’s quintessence reaches out, hopeful and gentle, but Keith draws away even as relief flooded his veins. Lance wants this to work. He wants them to not hate each other, or be strangers. Thank the gods. His relief must show on his face, because Lance continues. “I’m not so good with a sword, if we’re being honest. But I’m an excellent shot with a bow.” 

Keith lets himself grow a little more hopeful. “I’m a terrible shot,” he admits. “Perhaps we can teach each other.”

“I’m not opposed.” Lance rises, turning to look at him. “Perhaps we’ll learn to get along.”

“Oh.” Keith’s heart sinks. “Are we not getting along?”

“You think we are? We’ve done nothing but warn and threaten each other, and getting anything from you is like pulling teeth.” Lance sighs. He doesn't like Keith. Keith is sure of it now. How does this man change his emotions so fast? It’s frightening.

Keith bristles, curls his fingers into fists. “Well, yes. But at least you’re not lying out of your ass right now.”

“Excuse me?”

“‘He means the world to me'?” Keith grumbles, ears pinned tight against his head. “What a load of rubbish.”

“It’s not. You do mean the world to me,” Lance says, frigidly cold, stiff, hands at his sides. “I married you, and now my people will be safe. Your people will be safe. Our people are allies, and no longer at war. We have secured the safety of five billion people. And those people, _Keith_ , mean the world to me.”

Keith’s tail, his face, his ears fall, his expression wilting. “You had a choice in this, didn’t you?”

“Technically, yes. Practically, I’d say no.”

“You chose this? Even though you didn’t want it?”

“Yes, we’ve established this.”

“And they gave you a useless runt who’s been a lord for all of a phoeb.” Keith sighs. Despite his seeming lack of patience and his... inconsistencies... that really need further exploring, Lance deserves better. He deserves a legitimate member of nobility. Not some stunted (both physically and emotionally) little Galra who isn’t even full-grown.

Lance waves a hand, dismissive. “It hardly matters to me, to be honest. The point is, we are married, in a horribly rushed, unorthodox, soulless ceremony that will have half of the population questioning if there’s going to be a famine on one of our planets and the other half wondering if I accidentally got you pregnant. Either way, we’re a means to an end, and the end has been achieved.”

“About that... I am capable-”

“Yes, I gleaned as much when Zarkon mentioned your season.” Keith’s grateful his fur can hide his blush. “Which means you’ll have a violent growth spurt, and spend a movement or two doing nothing but sleeping and eating. Then you’ll spike a vicious fever and-”

“How do you know all of this? About lights and wind chimes and-” 

Lance blushes furiously beneath his scales. “I went to my sister for information. About Galra in general. As people, as opposed to an enemy or a society.” Lance sits down, and Keith joins him, taking the opportunity to touch the soft blue-green moss. It feels nice, just like he’d thought. He smiles, ears perking with delight. “I just... wanted to make it better for you. I knew nothing about you, but I figured you’d end up resenting me for all of this one way or another, so... here we are.”

Keith fiddles with the moss, avoiding the prince’s blue-opal gaze. “Here we are... I like Allura. She was very nice to me. She's nice to everyone.”

“I miss her. Romelle, too.” Lance murmurs, gazing up at the stars above. Keith hadn’t noticed the room had a glass roof.

"I didn't meet Romelle. She wasn't well when Emperor Zarkon invited me for dinner."

“We grew up together, you know? Only a couple decaphoebs apart. My constant companions. My dearest friends.”

Keith takes a deep breath. “Shiro. He... My mother was a soldier, until Allura and Lotor married. My father died, and I was alone. My mother couldn’t exactly lower her sword for me, so Shiro took me in. He’s been Captain of the Guard for a centaphoeb now...

“I’m really going to miss him,” Keith whispers, swallowing as his eyes began to sting. A small chirp makes its way past his lips. “And my mother. She couldn’t even be here.”

“You’ll see them again, Keith.” Lance places a hand on his shoulder, squeezing lightly. This time, Keith doesn’t shrink away. “I promise you. I’ll make sure you see them as often as possible.”

Keith imagines that that will still be never, but he believes Lance means it. Next to him, the Altean lies back, and one of the little flying lights, a blue one, lands on his nose. It's some kind of animal, with glass-like wings and tiny claws.

It pinches the end of Lance's nose, and the prince smiles, poking the creature gently. It seems to lean into his touch.

Keith quite suddenly remembers something Shiro told him about aesthetic beauty, and how captivating it can be. He wonders if that gentle, affectionate finger counts.

**Author's Note:**

> Next time on Love After the Fact: Adam finds himself face-to-face with a certain captain.


End file.
